They Call Me Moony
by Helga of Wurm
Summary: A sort of 1st person perspective. WIP


bRating: PG-13 (for one, maybe two profanities)  
Summary: I guess it could be a diary entry. Or maybe just  
thoughts. It is sort of broken up and not complete sentences. At  
any rate, it's in 1st person perspective.  
A/N: I've been sort of depressed lately due to many reasons. This is  
simply the result of my feelings. A type of venting process for me.  
It's a little angst-y at parts. Also ignore the poor formatting. I'll  
fix it later./bbr  
  
bPart One/b  
  
hr  
  
As if that would help.  
As if giving my condition a pet name would help. Stop the pain. Make it any easier for me. Well it doesn't. Thanks a lot.  
  
They try.  
God knows they try. And I love them for it. James and Peter and Lily and Sirius. Especially Sirius. He's like the brother I never had. Well. not never. I had a brother. Once.  
  
When I was young.  
Younger. Sixteen isn't exactly middle-aged though it seems I've suffered for an eternity. Anyways, when I was younger, when the disease was less well-known, treatments were less. "readily available." When I say less readily available I mean there were none. There was always the option of killing the "afflicted" one, but my mother always held a special place in her heart for me.  
  
I was only a year old when it happened.  
My mother had kept it a secret from everyone. Even from my father. Only my brother, Jacob, knew. And he guessed. Seven years old and he guessed. What with my monthly trip to the abandoned barn hidden in the woods, it barely comes as a surprise. I can only suppose mother put a silencing charm on it to keep people from hearing. Jacob, who had been so fond of me, wanted to help me so badly. He never stopped loving me. He never stopped.  
  
But he was too smart.  
Too smart for his own good. He was a real wiz at potions. A genuine fucking Einstein. During the summer before his 6th year, he had been working on a potion to help me with my transformations. Back then, Wolfsbane wasn't even an option. Even now it's a very risky treatment, if not bloody expensive. At any rate, Jacob had tested it on many occasions but never with another human in the room with me. He would catch raccoons and fawns and the like and pen them up with me. Watching from the outside, taking notes on how fast I ripped them to shreds. He almost had it.  
  
If he had only waited.  
Two months. Three maybe. It would've been perfect. Jacob came home for the Christmas holiday and decided it was now or never. I begged him to wait. Pleaded with him on my knees.  
  
I remember his face.  
His face was so resolute that it killed me. Nothing I could do or say would change his mind. On the day of the full moon, my mother led me out to the barn. Jacob followed us. After she locked me in, Jacob climbed in through the hayloft. WE spent the day talking but as the sky grew darker we grew more and more nervous. Though we couldn't see it, I could feel the moon rising. I always feel it. In my veins.  
  
He handed me the potion.  
He always kept it in the barn to hide it from mother. Now, the tricky thing with this potion was that you had to take it during transformation. I shot my brother one more pleading glance but he avoided my eyes. Tears rolled down my face as I waited for my cue. Searing pain shot through my body.  
  
It had started.  
I downed the entire goblet in one gulp. My pulse raced. Bones snapped. Skin, flesh tore from my body. Hair began to grow wildly over my body. I felt the urges. Soft at first. But they grew with each passing second. Each second an eternity. And ea, everything happened in an instant.  
  
I wanted blood.  
No, I needed blood. Human blood. And there it was. Right in front of me. The urge had never been this strong before with the potion. There had also never been a human in the room with me. I knew I wouldn't be able to control myself. I panicked.  
  
I tried to run.  
But I couldn't. It wouldn't let me. I felt myself, saw myself closing in on the human. There was nothing I could do. The human tried to escape. I lunged. I tried to stop myself. But I couldn't. It wouldn't let me.  
  
The human screamed.  
His bones cracked as I knocked him down to the floor. Ankle broken. He kicked me off him and began limping towards the ladder to the hayloft. The human body is amazingly strong when it is frightened.  
  
But my body is stronger.  
Once more I lunged and this time I held my prey. As the human squirmed and screamed, I relished the hot blood trickling down my throat. Raw flesh and bones gnashing between my teeth.  
  
It was ecstasy.  
It was horror. I was watching myself ripping apart this human. I knew this human. I knew what made me do it. I knew nothing could make me stop. I blacked out.  
  
I awoke hours later.  
Days later. Minutes later. Months later. Seconds later. I immediately denied what had happened. Because it really was just a bad dream. But my mother was crying.  
  
hr  
  
bEnd Part One/b  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Helga of Wurm~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
